Chapter 25: What I saw in the metal city, Part 3
Soo-won watched them from a distance—his once dear friends surrounded by members of the Wind Tribe—as the Shin gathered on the fields west of the Metal City with their dead. It was sunset, the last rays of the departing sun lighting Yona's scarlet locks aflame. With the wind snapping her crimson robes, she resembled the Firebird the Shin queen had taken to calling her—at least in appearance. It was an apt, if generous, moniker in his opinion. Hak was at her side, his blue robes cleaned and mended from this morning's battle. They spoke in low voices with their compatriots, moving slowly through the crowds on the stone terraces that jutted out from Nansou's western gate, greeting and clasping hands, though the overall spirit of the gathering was quiet and solemn.
Beyond them, in the razed fields, the Shin laid bough upon bough of greenery on the bodies of their fallen; those pyres would soon be lit to burn through the night.
He was reminded of another ceremony, eleven years ago. A month after his parents' death, their remains were carried through Kuuto. Soo-won remembered the coffins draped with the red and gold banners of Kouka and the black and purple of the Sky Tribe. The burns on his back had still been raw, that day. It hurt so bad he couldn't bear to be touched. How many times had he turned Yona away when she'd tried to embrace him, or lean on him? While she cried, Soo-won watched his uncle. King Il, draped in heavy robes of mourning, stared at the ground. Never once lifting his face, never shedding a tear—
Soo-won's hands curled within his sleeves as he averted his eyes from the Shin's preparations. He stood in the shadow of the western gate, the cool breeze sifting through his hair and rustling his fresh robes. His father's sword hung at his left hip. Soo-won closed his eyes briefly. It won't be long now, Father. Until I realize your dream.
Mua quietly approached him. "Heika."
He turned, his gaze following the sound of footsteps as the Shin queen descended the narrow stone staircase that led down from the top of the wall, followed by several others. At the base of the stair near the gate, Mi-jung sent her attendants on ahead with a gesture.
She joined him, folding her arms over her fresh uniform. Light gleamed off the long fall of her gathered black hair and the lacquered sheaths that ran along the outside of her thighs. "You don't join your people, Little Fox?"
My people? Soo-won shrugged fluidly. "This is suitable." He exhaled and lowered his voice. "It was not my intention to air family squabbles in front of you, Your Majesty, but surely you recall what Princess Yona said at the shallows. The Wind Tribe army is not mine to claim."
The Shin queen quirked a brow, her single eye flicking towards him. "Shall I judge you for dissention within your ranks, Your Majesty?"
To her pointed glance, Soo-won smiled. Indeed, such were the unique burdens of those who would rule.
"Yet, I'm told the five tribes of Kouka, splintered under the reign of your former king, are largely whole again. Impressive, Little Fox." Intrigue glinted in Mi-jung's gaze, the corners of her lips teased upwards. "Though I'm not surprised, given how unified and powerful your army was under your father's command."
It washed through him again—that intoxicating feeling of pride. To be recognized and respected, associated with his father's name. Soo-won held his expression carefully neutral, hiding his pleasure at her words.
The queen's mouth twisted with distaste. "But I do not understand your rules of succession."
He pressed his lips. Neither do I. What were you thinking, Grandfather? "I can appreciate the…simplicity of the Shin method, Your Majesty. Though I find it…" he paused, choosing his words with care, "unsustainable."
"Ha." Mi-jung flashed a grin at him, full of white teeth. "I'll hear more of your thoughts on that later, Little Fox. Supposing I deem you worth listening to."
Soo-won arched a brow. "Then I gather fighting side-by-side on your battlefield was not enough, Your Majesty?"
The queen shook her head, the mirth leaving her face. "As much as I'd like to move straight to talks and paper, Your Majesty, I cannot. My people are divided in their opinion of your kingdom, as you may gather from Eun-sook's treachery. I must still meet you or your champion in the arena."
"It will be me, Your Majesty," he said, ignoring the daggers General Joo-doh was undoubtedly staring into the back of his head. "I leave the timing to your discretion. Certainly your injury must be taken into consideration."
Mi-jung rolled her right shoulder, scowling at him. "If it wouldn't put that angry pup behind you into hysterics, I'd show you right now just how much this bothers me, Little Fox." Her lips pursed. "We'll do this the day after tomorrow."
Soo-won smiled pleasantly and dipped his head. "As you wish."
She snarled a little as she left him, an expression that absently reminded him of Hak. As he watched her cross the stone terrace—the Wind Tribe parting for her—nostalgia tugged at him. When, at thirteen, Hak had bested an injured General Geun-tae in the yearly games at Hiryuu Castle, the Thunder Beast had been ready to maim himself for a fair fight. Even now, Soo-won could clearly picture young Hak's face, how irritated he'd been—
Cold threaded through him when he realized what he was doing. Reminiscing, missing Hak… Soo-won averted his gaze from the terraces and fields, drawing one deep breath and then another. He couldn't allow himself to want them back like that. He stood on the cusp of his father's dream, of a Kouka glorious and feared. The Sei had fallen in line. In a few short days, the formality of an agreement with the Shin would be behind him as well. That would no doubt incense the Kai.
Of foremost importance was staying one step ahead of the Emperor. Of ultimate importance was securing a successor who wouldn't wile away all his careful work, but that was less imperative. And though Yona's resolve might be faltering—he'd seen it in her eyes and heard it in her voice—Soo-won didn't expect Hak would ever acknowledge him as king. …Unless the Thunder Beast had to, for his wife's sake.
I won't let the two of you stand in my way.
As sunset slipped to dusk, a dozen Shin in uniform with black mantles over their shoulders lit torches and approached the pyres. Mi-jung's general with the shaven head—Seong-ha—was among them.
Phantom heat spread across his back; Soo-won fought a shudder. He stepped inside the gate as low chanting started. "Mua-san. Ask Tae-woo Shogun to come see me once the ceremony is over. Assuming he doesn't mean to keep vigil with the Shin."
The blond guard nodded. With Joo-doh and Gyoku following, Soo-won headed towards the citadel just as the fragrant pine and cedar smoke was caught by the wind.
-x-
The guest quarters he'd been provided were on the fourteenth floor of the citadel, facing east, looking over Nansou's shipyards and harbor rather than the blackened fields were the Shin funeral pyres burned. Soo-won sat on the balcony in a low, cushioned chair, staving off a chill with hot tea. The sky was an inky dark blue, clouded and starless. The night was quiet; there was just the wind that occasionally brushed past. He'd tamed his memories some time ago and no longer saw the flames whenever he closed his eyes.
Kouka burial rituals varied widely among the tribes, but the Wind Tribe—for one—did not cremate their dead. Mundok had told him once: "We bury our fallen in the mountains, close to heaven, where the howling winds mourn their loss as we do." It was a lovely, romantic notion, and one he preferred to the Shin rituals that would continue long into the night.
Two sets of footfalls drew his attention.
"Heika," Mua said. "As requested…"
He glanced back over his shoulder.
Tae-woo approached, his young face calm, the wind catching the beads and feathers he wore against his right cheek. "Heika." Even with an arm in a sling, the general refused to lay down his spear.
Hak wouldn't have either. Soo-won shoved that thought aside, facing the cold night once more. "Thank you, Mua-san. You may leave us."
The guard's footsteps retreated.
He waved the young general to the empty chair opposite the small table that held the steaming tea service and an oil lamp. "If you'd care to sit, Tae-woo Shogun. My apologies for calling you away."
Tae-woo dropped into the chair, propping his spear against the balcony rail. He shook his head. "Mi-jung didn't expect us to stay. In fact, she said she was surprised we showed up at all."
No doubt Yona had cried through the whole thing, like she'd wept over the fallen Sei. Soo-won turned over a fresh cup and lifted the small kettle. "Tea, General?"
The young Wind Tribe chief eyed the offering briefly. "Thanks."
He poured.
Tae-woo lifted the cup with his good hand and sniffed, his brow furrowing. "What kind is this?"
Soo-won sat back with his own cup, smiling faintly to hide the mixture of emotion that twisted inside him. "Chamomile."
The young chief sipped tentatively. From the look on his face, he clearly couldn't decide if he liked it or not. "This stuff is supposed to help you sleep?"
"So I'm told," Soo-won said, swirling his half-empty cup. "I don't find that it helps at all, but I appreciate the sentiment of the one who gave it to me." And the memory of the one night he'd slept quite well. Perhaps Kye-sook was right. I do enjoy torturing myself, don't I? He cleared his throat softly. "We are not allied yet, Tae-woo Shogun—a fact Her Majesty felt necessary to remind me of, earlier."
Tae-woo cocked a brow, lowering his teacup. "But we will be, Your Majesty." There was an edge to the youth's voice that Soo-won wasn't used to hearing. Usually Tae-woo was detached to the point of appearing bored. But where the Shin—and Wind Tribe underground—were concerned, naturally he'd take an active interest in the outcome of these proceedings.
Soo-won lifted his free hand. "You and your people may rest assured I have every intention of pursuing this alliance for the good of Kouka."
A look of relief crossed the young general's face. "You've decided we can trust her, then."
He arched a brow. "I have decided nothing of the sort, General." Soo-won paused to sip the earthy, sweet brew. "However, Her Majesty would be a fool to make an enemy of us. And of all that I've seen thus far, nothing would have me conclude that she is even the least bit foolish. But trust?" He slowly shook his head and cast his gaze once more out to the clouded night, to the damaged ships that bobbed in Nansou's harbor. "That is not so easily done. I've decided to take a calculated risk—that is the whole of it."
"Ehhh?" Tae-woo leaned back and propped one booted foot on his knee.
Clearly the youth had no interest in discussing the finer points of politics—much like his former chief. Soo-won exhaled, ignoring a flare of old pain.
"I'll be brief, General," he said, lowering his voice. "Negotiations with the Shin will keep me here for a few more days. In that time, the Kai Empire will learn what's happened here. In addition to sending Wind Tribe messengers to inform the rest of the Five Tribes' council, I'd prefer the bulk of your army return to Wind Tribe territory." He glanced at the young chief aside. "I would hate for the Emperor to think we've left your coastline vulnerable, even for a moment."
Tae-woo straightened and nodded sharply. "Agreed, Heika. But I'll maintain a contingent here, for your protection."
Soo-won smiled faintly. "I leave that to your discretion, Tae-woo Shogun. Given that, I'm told, your Wind Tribe underground is quite well appointed."
The young general inhaled, his expression cooling. "That is it, Your Majesty." He set his cup on the table. "Is there anything else?"
"No." Soo-won shook his head. "Well done today, General. I understand we have several gravely wounded, but to escape such a battle with so few casualties… It is extremely impressive."
Tae-woo's mouth tightened. "May I be dismissed, Heika?"
"Of course."
The youth stood and retrieved his spear. He turned towards the room, but paused. "You should know—our lives were bought with Shin blood." Tae-woo's knuckles whitened against the staff of his spear. "Mine included."
As hot-blooded as Hak. Soo-won pressed his lips. "My thanks, Tae-woo Shogun. Supposing the princess has any objections or concerns, I'd be happy to discuss them with her. Be sure to inform Hak there's no reason for him and his bride to stay."
There was a silent pause. "Excuse me," Tae-woo said, his voice terse. The young general's footsteps receded.
Alone, Soo-won sighed, his fingers tightening around his teacup. "Why must everything remind me of you, old friend?" he murmured. Especially now when you're nothing but a distraction and hindrance to my goal. He preferred they live out their happiness far away from him, where the contrast to his solitude and lack wasn't demonstrated to him on a daily basis. He couldn't afford to consider the emotion in Yona's eyes when she'd told him to be careful or how readily he and Hak had fallen into discussing the siege… Soo-won drew a breath of the cold air, casting those thoughts aside. I won't dishonor your memory, Father. I won't betray you by…longing for them.
He finished his tea and rose, wondering which nightmares would attend him when he slept.
The bulk of the Wind Tribe army left over the next two days. It was late afternoon when a soft knock sounded at the door. Soo-won lifted his quill from the scroll he attended, tapping off excess ink while Mua opened the door.
Tae-woo Shogun entered, three warriors with him. "Heika."
"Is it time then?" Soo-won asked. He returned the quill to the ink well and lifted the scroll from the table, gently waving the parchment to dry it.
"Nearly. …Is that what you're wearing?"
He arched a brow, glancing down at the robes he wore—his usual attire. "It is. Are you suggesting I wear armor to a mock battle with wooden swords?"
"Wouldn't be a bad idea," Tae-woo muttered beneath his breath, but Soo-won heard him anyway. The chief cleared his throat. "I heard you, uh, tripped while fighting Geun-tae. That's why you lost."
Soo-won smiled and carefully rolled the parchment he'd been working on, tucking it into his scroll case. "The venue, Tae-woo Shogun?"
"The open-air coliseum on the south side of the city. Mi-jung doesn't care who attends. I've stationed the underground throughout the area—we'll cover all exits."
"I appreciate it, General." He rose from the table, facing the young chief and his warriors.
Tae-woo's lips thinned into a line. "Heika, I can get you out of any place in this city, but in the ring you have to hold your own."
Joo-doh inhaled tightly. "I don't like this. Not at all."
Soo-won sighed. "Yes, your concerns have been noted, Joo-doh Shogun. Again."
"Heika—"
"There will be no further discussion on the point." Soo-won touched the sheathed sword that hung at his hip—his father's blade. He lowered his voice. "This is something I must do."
-x-
Father. From the deep shadows at the edge of the coliseum, Soo-won looked up at the crowds gathered by firelight and the rapidly darkening skies above. This may be the only place in all the world where I don't have to hide that I'm your son. And the only time.
Shin soldiers and civilians filled the stands, a sea of black uniforms broken here and there with riots of color. Of the two dozen or so Wind Tribe warriors who remained in Nansou, Soo-won did not see even one of them. But they were out there somewhere, or so Tae-woo had promised.
A broad, stone tunnel sheltered him from view—a cavernous chamber with a dirt floor that connected directly to the yard. His guards and one quite irritated Sky Tribe general waited with him. Tae-woo would bring word when all was ready.
But the pattern of footsteps that approached wrought tension in his frame—much too quiet and familiar to belong to the current Wind Tribe chief. Soo-won's palms prickled with warmth, his injured left hand throbbing a little as it rested on the hilt of his father's sword.
He gathered himself with a breath. "Hak. You've been scarce these past two days." He'd almost been tempted to believe Hak and Yona had left as he'd suggested, but though he hadn't caught a glimpse of either of them, he had seen Yona's odd companions about—particularly Jae-ha and the masked one. He couldn't bring himself to believe she would have left them behind, even if he wished it were so. With a glance, he sent Mua, Gyoku, and a glaring Joo-doh further away.
Hak's footsteps stopped even with his side, a polite distance between them. "Yes. It's been nice."
Newlyweds. He fought a grimace. I shouldn't have mentioned it. Soo-won cleared his throat. "And? You've decided to come cheer against me?"
"Not exactly." The Thunder Beast folded his arms, his voice cool. His glaive rested against his back.
"Ah." Soo-won glanced at his former friend aside. "Your wife spoke to you, did she?"
Hak lifted a brow, his face icy. "Oh, I heard all about how you saved her life, threatened her, and offered to make her your puppet."
He sighed. "Puppet is such an inelegant word, Hak. Protégé would be more appropriate."
Hak's jaw tightened. "Don't insult us. You've always underestimated her. There's nothing that you need to teach her."
"If you say so." There was no reasoning with the Thunder Beast. Why waste the effort? Soo-won brushed loose hair from his brow. "Is that all? That could have waited."
"No. It isn't." Hak exhaled and loosened his arms.
Soo-won turned to face him, surprised to find…emotion in his friend's eyes, even as the rest of his face was hard.
Hak looked away quickly. He folded his arms again, as if unable to decide on a posture that suited him. His jaw worked a bit…finally, he sighed and spoke quietly. "I knew about the fire. But I never said anything. I never asked." He paused, his mouth flattening into a line. "I regret that. Not being there for you; letting you go through all that alone."
Soo-won's breath caught, cold freezing his limbs, his heart thudding in his throat. Hak. He spun away, just so he could breathe, a tremor running through him. Soo-won swallowed hard, his mouth suddenly dry. "…What— What do you expect me to say to that?"
"Nothing. Just something I needed to say."
Soo-won didn't reply. His mind spun with emotions he tried desperately to stop— If Hak had been there when he'd woken after the fire… Or, after, if he'd told Hak instead of hiding it all inside— His fingers shook—he curled them into fists. But would that have changed anything?
He heard Hak turn away. "Besides, I had to tell you now in case you don't come back."
The pointed jab allowed him to gather himself. He scowled, looking back over his shoulder. "Your respect for my abilities is overwhelming, Hak."
The look that flashed across Hak's face as he left was one Soo-won had seen many times, but never since that night— "Mind your blind spots, Soo-won. You always had trouble with that." He rounded the corner, out of sight.
Soo-won stared after him for a moment more, fighting a longing fiercer than anything— But he couldn't have his friend back. I chose not to tell you, Hak. Because you were the only one who might have changed my mind. Even now—
No. He abruptly shoved all of those thoughts aside. It was far too tempting to consider what might have happened differently. Soo-won exhaled long and slow, once and then a second time. It was easier when the two of you hated me. He couldn't help but recall the look on Yona's face in the barren citadel chamber—the liquid in her eyes, the desperate emotion on her face when she said she didn't want him to die. Shaking out his fingers, Soo-won faced the arena once more. Hak. Yona-hime. You're more dangerous to me now than you ever were, when you looked at me solely like your enemy.
He cast his eyes towards the dark, starry heavens. I'm sorry, Father. I won't let them shatter my resolve.
Footsteps approached. "Heika." Tae-woo walked to his side, carrying his spear. The bandages on his chest and left arm peeked out through the neck and sleeve of his tunic; he'd forgone the sling. The young chief stopped even with Soo-won, eyeing him. "…Is something wrong?"
"Nothing at all," Soo-won said, keeping his voice cool.
Tae-woo studied him a moment longer but said nothing else.
Suddenly the noise from the crowd rose. Tae-woo straightened. "There she is."
Across the arena, two figures in black were striding across the dirt floor.
"I suppose that is our cue?"
"Ah." Tae-woo nodded.
Joo-doh approached with armored footsteps, his voice low. "Heika—"
Soo-won rolled his eyes skyward and sighed. "I'll be fine, Joo-doh Shogun."
The Sky Tribe general gave a soft, tortured growl, like an injured animal.
Soo-won quirked a brow. "You are every bit the mother hen the Shin queen likened you to." He smiled and glanced back over his shoulder. "I'll return shortly, Joo-doh-san."
Joo-doh glowered at him, his arms tightly folded over his armor, the twin Shin blades hanging at his sides.
"Heika," Tae-woo said.
"Yes." Soo-won turned away. He walked out into the arena with Tae-woo at his side. The dirt yard was bathed in firelight from the blazing sconces on the coliseum walls.
Mi-jung was accompanied by one of her generals—Ki-nam, the one who openly wore a sword. The Shin queen had changed into a sleeveless tunic, baring arms riddled with scars and the metal bracers she wore on each forearm. The cap of her right shoulder was bandaged. They met in the center of the coliseum near a rack of wooden weaponry.
She grinned at him, firelight flashing off her eyepatch. "'Evening, Little Fox. It's a lovely night for a battle."
He affected a pleasant smile. "It is quite nice, yes."
She reached down and stripped the sword sheaths from her thighs, passing them off to her general.
Soo-won followed suit, handing his sword belt to Tae-woo.
The queen straightened and rested a hand on her hip. "The rules of this engagement are simple. The first one laid prone loses. Anything and everything else is fair game."
"I see. And how does that loss or victory reflect on our negotiations?"
A slow smile spread across Mi-jung's face. "Directly," she said.
He quirked a brow. "That isn't what I asked."
She jerked her chin towards the rack beside them. "Choose your weapon, King of Kouka."
Sighing, he turned towards the rack of staffs, wooden swords of various lengths, and clubs. He selected a wooden sword of the proper weight and length to match his father's blade.
Mi-jung selected the same. Two soldiers ran up and carried the rack away. The Shin Queen backed a few steps, standing just off center in the arena as Ki-nam left her side.
Soo-won nodded at Tae-woo. The Wind Tribe chief dipped his head and departed.
He stood opposite the Shin queen. A hush fell over the coliseum.
Mi-jung smiled, her wooden sword held lightly in her right hand with its tip pointed toward the ground. "Announce yourself."
Holding his weapon loosely in his right hand, Soo-won lifted his chin and his voice. "I am Soo-won. King of Kouka. Son of Yu-hon."
Mi-jung grinned, her one eye flashing in the firelight. "I am Mi-jung," she said. "Daughter of Shin."
A rumble went through the crowd—boots stomping against stone, shouts and hollers.
Soo-won lifted his sword just slightly, standing at ease. Watching her closely.
The Shin queen tipped her weapon up and rested it against her shoulder. She moved to her right in an arc with unhurried steps, practically strolling, her one-eyed gaze intent upon him.
Circling her prey. He listened to her breathing as she moved behind him, the lightness and pattern of her steps against the dirt. As she rounded his right shoulder, Soo-won adjusted his grip on the sword minutely—
He caught a tiny pause in her rhythm; felt a shift in the air—
Soo-won twisted away as her sword cut the air where he'd just been. He slipped to the side, slashing at her back—
Their swords met with a resounded thwack and the noise from the crowd rose. He held the contact for the space of a breath, testing the strength of her arm. Then he leapt back, just as she did, landing on the balls of his feet, his robes billowing outward. There was a glint in the queen's eye—
Soo-won lifted his sword out to the right and sprung forward— Their blades clattered high, low. She leapt back to avoid a strike he aimed at her knees. Her sword arced down from above—
He flattened to the side and drove the butt of his sword into her gut. He hit fabric and hard muscle—not armor. Mi-jung grunted and threw her elbow at his neck— The blow just grazed his hair as he rotated away.
With three steps between them, Mi-jung wiped spittle from the corner of her mouth and smiled. "It's good you're taking this seriously, Little Fox. I would've killed you, otherwise." Blood darkened the bandages on her shoulder. She moved her sword to her left hand and shifted her weight—
He lifted his sword and leapt forward, ducking under her first strike and slashing shoulder to hip— His sword cut air as she danced back. He blocked the next blow, she parried his, and he spun, feinting left and jabbing right. The tip of his sword just clipped the fabric at her waist. Her eye flashed and she lowered her shoulder. The blow caught him in the arm and knocked him back, but he kept his feet, sliding against the dirt.
He flipped his sword up across his hands as her next strike came for his head. Her sword met his in an ear-splitting thwack and the force of it ran from his fingers all the way down to his toes. Her left hand was definitely dominant—that blow would have cracked his skull if he hadn't blocked it.
But she wasn't as strong as Hak. Soo-won threw his weight forward, forcing her back. Nor was she as fast. He slashed forward. She parried, held her ground, and fought back. Their swords clattered off one another, cut air, and met again.
He'd fought Hak so many times. With swords, staffs. They'd spent entire days together in the training yards of Hiryuu Castle.
You're open! He remembered Hak's voice clear as day and pictured a grin on the Thunder Beast's face as the wooden sword struck his side.
Soo-won grunted and aimed for the wrist that had struck him. His sword collided with wood instead.
Too slow! Stop waving that thing around and come at me!
He leapt forward and swung—
His opponent blocked three times in quick succession and laughed. Come on, Soo-won. You're better than that.
Soo-won snorted and spun, bringing his hands together on the hilt of his sword. The weapon caught his opponent across the waist.
The target staggered back and grinned. That's more like it.
He pressed the attack with driving blows that his opponent met strike for strike. Then momentum shifted and a flurry of fast, hard slashes forced him back. Soo-won's arms ached. Sweat was running from his brow and he was breathing as heavily as the one he fought.
They circled three steps and sprung at each other. Swords collided in a series of jarring blows, so hard that the wood in his hands began to splinter. And if his was—
He shifted and brought his sword down hard from above. His opponent blocked and the wooden beam buckled beneath his strike, snapping in two. His sword struck his target's shoulder and shattered into a shower of slivers.
He saw a glint and a grin before broken sword halves were flung aside and fingers dug into his shoulders. Soo-won was weightless before he realized— His back slammed against the dirt, the air rushing from his lungs.
The Thunder Beast in his mind smiled. I always wanted to be someone worthy of you.
A knee planted in the center of his chest kept him from getting up.
"I'm glad to see you enjoyed this, Little Fox," Mi-jung said, breathing hard. Her hands pinned his arms to the ground.
Soo-won blinked into her shadowed face, just managing to suck in some air. "Hmm?"
Sweat glistened on her forehead and beaded on her skin, darkening the neck of her tunic. "You were grinning."
His eyes widened. Was I?
She quirked a brow, an expression of amusement and curiosity crossing her face. She smiled. "My victory."
Soo-won slowly caught his breath. "No argument there."
Mi-jung climbed off of him and a deafening roar rose from the gathered crowds. She offered him a hand.
Just like Hak used to. With pang inside, Soo-won took her hand and let her help him up. Once on his feet, he brushed dirt and wooden splinters from his robes.
The cheering went on for some time. With a start, he realized his name was being shouted alongside hers. Not nearly as loudly, but still— Soo-won drew a breath, unsure if he could allow himself to feel pride. For all of his intentions, in the end, he hadn't fought as his father would have.
Mi-jung laughed. "You seem to have made an impression, King of Kouka," she said. Her gaze flicked over him with approval as Ki-nam and Tae-woo approached from the coliseum's shadows. "The real negotiations start now." She smiled. "Come to my quarters in an hour. We have much to discuss." Then she turned and strode away.
Her…quarters? Soo-won's brows climbed his forehead, a warm trace of shock running through his veins. He wiped the sweat from his face with the sleeve of his robe.
Jogging, Tae-woo made it to his side quickly. "Heika—"
A good portion of the crowd still chanted his name. Soo-won pushed thoughts of his former friend out of his mind. Despite that setback, he'd still done this—shown all of Shin that Kouka was a force to be reckoned with.
He smiled. "I appear to be in one piece, Tae-woo Shogun."
-x-
In his borrowed chambers, Soo-won washed off the sweat and dirt and donned clean robes. He settled his sword back at his hip where it belonged.
A loud knock rattled the door of the small washroom. "Heika, are you done?" Joo-doh asked.
"I am." The dark eastern sky was just visible through the slats in the window shutters. He gathered his damp hair into its usual clasp. "Feel free to open the door rather than knocking it down, Joo-doh Shogun."
The paneled door slid aside with a snap. Soo-won could feel the general's glare boring into the back of his skull.
He turned and smiled sweetly. "Yes?"
Joo-doh folded his arms over his breastplate. "I'm very against this, Heika."
"And why would that be, Joo-doh Shogun? If the queen wanted to kill me, she had ample opportunity to do so already."
The general's jaw flexed. "I don't trust her."
Soo-won smoothed his hair against his shoulder and lowered his hands. "Neither do I. Have you any other argument?"
Joo-doh inhaled tightly. He spoke in a low, grating voice. "No."
"I thought not." Soo-won rolled his shoulders lightly. "Come with me if you like." He lowered his voice. "If you stand outside the door until morning…well, I warned you."
The color drained from Joo-doh's face. "Heika…"
He laughed. "I'm teasing, Joo-doh Shogun. Relax. I have no intention of feeding myself to that woman." He passed Joo-doh as he left the chamber.
"This isn't like you," the general said quietly.
Soo-won paused. "Isn't it? Consider the irony, my friend. Out here I don't have to hide. I might be discovering who I really am."
Joo-doh's face darkened. "No. I remember how you were before—"
"Then will you tell me, Joo-doh Shogun?" He slowly shook his head. "How should I be? Because I've forgotten." He walked on.
-x-
The Shin sovereign's quarters were on the seventeenth level of the citadel and encompassed the entire floor. Soo-won climbed the central stair behind Kyung-hwa to a landing with three guarded doors. Two soldiers in black flanked each entryway. The Shin lieutenant general led him to the center door; Joo-doh and Gyoku followed.
The guards, one man and one woman, bowed to him deeply. "Mi-jung is expecting you, Your Majesty," the man said. He opened the door.
Soo-won stepped into a narrow hall of paneled wood, the top of which was latticework that let in light from the rooms to either side. They left their slippers by the door. Kyung-hwa led him through the hall and to a chamber on the left.
Inside was the general with the shaved head, who he'd seen most recently at the funeral pyres. Seong-ha bowed from the waist, the black mantle he wore over his uniform fluttering gently. "Your Majesty."
"General," Soo-won said.
The chamber was a sitting room with a low table surrounded by cushions. A stone hearth built into one wall provided illumination by firelight and kept the room pleasantly warm. The slatted windows looked south where the waning moon was beginning to rise—a glowing crescent haloed by clouds.
Mi-jung entered the room from an adjacent chamber. As in the arena, she wore a sleeveless tunic belted at the waist over breeches with her blades strapped to her thighs, but her feet were bare and she no longer wore the metal bracers. Fresh bandages capped her right shoulder. She looked at Seong-ha and flicked her wrist. "Away with you."
The general dipped his head and saluted. "I live to serve, my lady." He turned and left through the wooden hall.
Mi-jung exhaled, her expression tinged with irritation before she smoothed her face. She came to them and rested a hand on her hip. "Thank you, Kyung-hwa."
The lieutenant general bowed and excused herself, leaving Mi-jung unguarded unless there were others hiding deeper in her chambers.
Her gaze skimmed the two with him, amusement lifting the corners of her mouth. She waved a hand towards the table. "Please." Then she moved towards a cabinet on one side of the room.
Soo-won stepped up into the room; the wooden floor was warm beneath his feet. Over his shoulder he gave Joo-doh a pointed glance.
The general's face tightened even as Gyoku dipped his head and obediently headed for the hallway. Soo-won smiled coolly. Joo-doh inhaled audibly and spun away, scowling.
That addressed, Soo-won seated himself on a cushion beside the table.
Mi-jung returned carrying a dusty, earthen flask and two clay cups. "I would not be offended if you kept your guards with you," she said, setting all on the table.
"Consider it a small gesture," he said. "You are armed and so am I."
Mi-jung smiled. "Shall we test your steel against mine, Little Fox?"
He saw her hand touch her thigh, a flash of metal, and watched the neck of the flask fall to the table as her hand left her side.
Soo-won inhaled softly. "Perhaps another time."
Mi-jung settled cross-legged on the opposite side of the table and poured crimson liquid into each cup. "This is wine from the finest vineyards along the southern Shin coast. Aged many years. This kind of poison will kill you slowly, not quickly." She bared her teeth in a quick grin. "You don't insult me if you decline to drink, Soo-won." She picked up her cup and emptied it in one swallow.
He pursed his lips. "Should such fine wine be quaffed, Mi-jung-san?"
"-san?" She rolled her eye and refilled her cup from the bottle. "I have plenty more. The last Shin king was a collector."
Soo-won looked at the wine before him. Joo-doh would be livid. But, in fairness, Joo-doh was always livid. He raised the cup, breathing in the intense bouquet of the drink, and sipped. The wine was bright and sour on his palate, quite unlike the sweet plum wines and sake he was used to. Aside from the taste, there weren't any immediate ill effects.
"Not your preference, I take it," she said, leaning back and propping up one of her knees.
He swallowed with effort and smiled. "It is new to me, but that doesn't make it unpleasant." The second sip went down a little easier.
She downed half of her cup and smiled at him over its rim. "You may now tell me all that is wrong with Shin, Little Fox."
Soo-won lifted his brows. "Then you've decided I'm worth listening to? Even though I lost our battle."
Her smile broadened. She drank again before answering. "Winning was never a requirement. In fact, had you beaten me handily, I would've been forced to kill you to save face."
"Ah." How easily she said that. He winced a little and covered the expression with another sip. "How fortunate, then, that you weren't fighting the Thunder Beast. I'm afraid that would've been no contest."
"Ehhh?" The queen cocked a brow. "Are you quite sure of that?"
Soo-won inhaled. "Entirely."
Mi-jung chuckled. "I see. Well, I still hope to meet him in the arena one day, perhaps in Kouka and under broader terms." She drained the rest of her cup and poured for herself again. "But we're getting off topic."
He sipped more wine. "All that is wrong with Shin…" He exhaled lightly. "Where to start? Your constant wars leave you vulnerable to attack." Setting down his cup, he ticked points off his fingertips. "With battles driving your people from their homes and fields you must constantly be strapped for resources. Burning fields means starvation is likely a grave concern. Your impressive technological advances are limited by your workforce and destroyed in your skirmishes." Soo-won hummed as he thought further. "You rely heavily on the Wind Tribe's respect, so much so that they've even infiltrated your capital and you welcome them." He sat back, tapping his finger against the smooth surface of the table. "And so long as you insist on physical strength being your only measure of aptitude, the continual backstabbing and cycling of the iron throne will persist until someone stronger forces your entire country into submission." He recovered his cup and sipped again. "That is why I say Shin tradition is unsustainable, Mi-jung-san."
She studied him quietly in return, her expression unreadable.
He lifted his cup and drank a bit more this time. The taste was starting to grow on him. That and the bit of warmth that traced through his limbs. Hak always used to tease him about being a lightweight whenever they drank together. Soo-won ignored a brief flash of pain, dulled though it was by the wine. He rolled his shoulders gently. "I won't claim that Kouka's methods of bloodlines are superior by any means, but at least dissention is…limited in scope." He lifted a brow. "At one time the Shin did follow bloodlines, or so I've read."
Mi-jung resettled and swirled the wine in her cup. "Yes, a custom my ancestors dismissed when slaughtering children became unpalatable. They never lived long enough to gain the throne promised them." Her lips pursed. "Shin children who show combat prowess at a young age are removed from their parents and raised in collectives by the state. That way we form no inconvenient ties."
"How…efficient," he said, allowing distaste to color his voice. He'd loved his father and mother dearly. "But considering how you operate, I understand wishing to avoid such…distractions." He could appreciate it to an extent—how much easier it would have been to take the throne if his uncle and cousin had not been related to him by blood. …Disregarding Hak, of course. His fingers tightened around his cup.
"I'll admit something is lost," she said, setting her cup on the table between them. "You clearly resemble what I've heard of your father. But there's more as well. You are well-read and cunning, Little Fox." She grinned, her gaze trailing him. "If you weren't king of Kouka, I might keep you."
Dare he wonder what that would entail? Soo-won took a generous swallow of wine. "Would I survive being kept by you, my lady?"
That she didn't answer, her fingertip tapping the side of her earthen cup. "Shall we talk business, Soo-won?"
He smiled. "Please. What exactly is it you want of Kouka, Mi-jung-san?"
Her expression smoothed. "I've held the iron throne for one month. That puts me better than a quarter of all Shin sovereigns in the history of our nation, as I expect you know." Mi-jung's face darkened. "A decade is considered a lengthy reign here. As the younger officers who survived the civil war gain rank, they will amass weapons and armies of their own." She sat back, the cup held loosely in her hand. "There will be a season of prosperity throughout the country as the war machine is built. But it is—as you've said—not sustainable. Land, resource, people—these will become the things of skirmishes and then of all-out war. Thus, the cycle begins again." She lifted the cup to her lips and drank. "I intend to outlive my predecessors, Soo-won."
He lowered his half-full cup and swirled the wine gently. The red liquid sloshed prettily against the walls of the vessel. "So you seek a strong ally to come to your aid, trade to bolster your resources." He raised a brow. "But the fastest way to internal unification is to go to war against someone else."
A slow smile spread across Mi-jung's face. Her teeth gleamed. "You asked about my intentions for Kouka, Little Fox."
He exhaled gently. "I've just concluded a new trade agreement with the Sei. I'd hate to think I wasted all of that time and effort."
Mi-jung shook her head, the firelight playing off her long ponytail of black hair. "The Sei have little that interest me. The Empire however…"
"Ah." Soo-won drank more of the ruby liquid. It spread like velvet across his tongue. He smiled. "We may have a common interest there."
She lowered her brow as she regarded him. "I thought so. The Kai have been troublesome for a while. My predecessors neutered themselves with the gold the Empire will pay for our ships. I am not so blind." She emptied her cup again. "But I'm also not foolish enough to think that the combined strength of the Shin is enough to go against the Empire."
He lifted a brow. "Then, do you also wish to go to war together?" He tipped his head back, letting the rest of the wine slide past his lips. He touched a droplet that caught on the corner of his mouth.
She didn't answer.
When he lowered his head and looked at her, the intensity of her gaze sent a shiver through him. He didn't find it unpleasant, that sensation. On the contrary…
"You need more wine," she said.
Soo-won glanced at his empty cup and held it out to her. Mi-jung set down her cup and lifted the bottle. But instead of just pouring, her hand caught his at the wrist and steadied him. He inhaled at the heat of her fingers against his skin. That wasn't unpleasant either. Her touch was firm, but it was not the way she'd gripped his arm in the forest north of Nansou. She refilled his cup slowly, her eye dark.
Her hand was calloused from years of weapons training, not smooth like Lili's. The Shin queen would never make a suitable bride…but it didn't escape his notice that the rest of him didn't seem to mind, nor was there even a trace of the aversion he'd felt with Lili. His eyes traced the deep scars that crossed the outside of her wrist, the others that marked her arm. His own would hardly matter to this woman.
He cleared his throat lightly. "Mi-jung…are you trying to seduce me?"
She chuckled. She finished pouring and released him. "Little Fox, if I were, you wouldn't have to ask." She refilled her own cup. "You'd find yourself in my bed. On your back."
Soo-won choked a little. He coughed behind his hand until he could speak again. "My. You're…direct, aren't you?"
Mi-jung sat back and grinned at him. "It saves time." She lifted her hand and flicked her fingers. "Though, I'm not generally in the habit of bedding those who are weaker than I am. Or prettier."
Soo-won studied the wine in his cup before he drank again. "If that's your criteria, your bed must be quite cold."
She threw back her head and laughed. "You are an amusing one, Soo-won." She drank again and brushed the corner of her mouth with her knuckles. "A war with the Empire would be foolhardy at this stage, but hardly necessary. Cut the head from the snake and its body will die."
"The Kai Emperor?" he asked and sipped.
Mi-jung's face smoothed. "The man you think of as the Emperor has been dead five years."
He lowered his cup. "Pardon?"
She looked down into her wine, her lips tightening. "Many of his own court don't even know. His son, Houng Geon, controls the Empire now. Has for some time." Tension gathered visibly in her neck and shoulders.
"…How is it that you know?"
Mi-jung exhaled coolly. "I've had the unfortunate privilege of visiting the Emperor's throne. I still have some contacts there."
Hence the accent… Just how long did you spend there? Soo-won tilted his head to the side. "And given that, I should trust you? Why?"
She set down her cup and lifted her hands to her face. She drew the patch away from her right eye—or where her eye should have been. Instead there was just a scar and sunken pit. Her jaw tightened. "I don't consider myself a vain woman, Soo-won, but I was fond of my eye before Geon took it." She flexed her right wrist, drawing his attention once more to the dark lines that ran across her skin. "I was also right-handed. …As for how I ended up in his 'care,' well, as I told your green-haired friend, some stories are not shared between mere acquaintances."
He pursed his lips. "Geon is the head you wish to sever? The Emperor had many sons."
Mi-jung lowered the eye patch back into place. "Most of them are missing. I suspect they're dead." Her face hardened. "Geon is a lying wretch of a man and a consummate betrayer. He has no honor whatsoever."
Soo-won raised a brow but said nothing.
She inhaled. "You may think what you like of my people and our history, but if I betray you it will be to your face. Not to your back."
He lifted a hand. "Forgive me, my lady."
Mi-jung averted her face and closed her eye, exhaling. The firelight cast a soft glow against the column of her neck. "Destroying Geon and revealing the Emperor's death is enough to cast the Empire into turmoil for a time."
He wrapped his hands around the small cup. "After which another will rise to take his place. Even if it isn't one of the Emperor's sons. The new Emperor could be worse."
Her hand curled into a fist against the table. "No one could be like that monster." She looked at him, her eye narrowed. "Frankly, your lack of reaction is disappointing, Soo-won. Yu-hon was killed in disputed Kai lands, was he not?"
Soo-won drew breath, a bit of cold settling at the base of his throat despite the warmth of the wine humming in his veins. "My father was killed in Kouka lands that were undisputed at the time of his death."
She nodded. "And how did he die?"
His stomach tightened. "He was betrayed by someone close to him."
"Oh?" She lifted a brow. "I assume you mean a relative or a trusted member of his court. Interesting."
Soo-won's hands tightened on the cup he held. He forced himself to put it down. "What's interesting about it?"
"Do you know that for a fact?" she asked.
His shoulders knotted. "I saw it with my own eyes."
"And the body, after?"
He stiffened. "There was a fire."
Her eye widened. "Ah."
Soo-won narrowed his eyes at her. "What are you getting at?"
She straightened. "I was in the Emperor's inner court the day Geon returned from Kin Province. That was ten…eleven…years ago. He always liked to flaunt his trophies before his ailing father. That day he boasted quite proudly that he'd rid the Empire of the Kouka threat. By killing the Kouka prince."
Ice spread through his chest. His hands curled. "You're mistaken."
Mi-jung shrugged. "Indeed, a man may say what he wants. His trophies—there's no way to prove who they really belonged to. Lying is quite consistent with his character."
His voice came out strangled. "Trophies?"
Her lips tightened. Mi-jung touched her eye patch, then she covered her right wrist with the fingers of her left hand.
The air rushed from his lungs. It wasn't possible. He'd seen it himself. King Il holding the very blade that now hung from his hip. When he entered the house from outside and first saw them through the loft's wooden lattice work, he thought his father looked upset; thought they had embraced. But then he saw the flash of the sword, the blood. His father fell to his knees— Everything after that was fire and heat and pain—
Soo-won reined in his memories and regained control. Mi-jung only stood to gain from lying to him. She was a formidable foe, but her throne remained vulnerable. An alliance with Kouka benefited her greatly while the Empire's attention would shift against Kouka first. To think that he had let his guard down even a little. How eagerly he'd played to her respect of his father, conned into openly displaying his prowess in battle. And now to be sitting in her private chambers, soaking up her flirtatious affections…
He shook his head slowly. Carefully. "I saw it all, Mi-jung. No one else was with my father that night."
She nodded. "Forgive me. I mean no disrespect to his memory."
Soo-won affected a sad smile and traced the rim of his cup with his fingertip. "It is no matter. He's been dead more than a decade, after all. I've moved on."
"Such things must be difficult," she said quietly. "I wouldn't know."
He offered a shrug. When she didn't say more, he lifted his cup and drained the rest of the wine. "I don't mean to be rude, my lady, but it's gotten quite late. Could we, perhaps, continue these discussions in the morning?"
Mi-jung straightened. "Of course." She pressed her lips into a line. "My apologies. I did not mean to—"
He smiled again easily. "Please, think nothing of it. I simply…need to reflect upon some things. That is all." He got to his feet; she followed. "Thank you for the wine."
She dipped her head. "Allow me to call my guards to escort—"
Soo-won flicked his wrist. "No need, Mi-jung. I can find my way." Her face smoothed. He turned and left her chambers without waiting for any further reaction on her part.
His breath caught in his throat when he saw who waited for him on the landing. He'd expected Joo-doh and Gyoku, or—by some rare lapse of the Sky Tribe general's wits, Tae-woo. It should never have been Hak.
The former Wind Tribe chief leaned against the rail. At Soo-won's appearance, Hak straightened and eyed him, one brow lifted. The Thunder Beast did not have his glaive.
Forcing himself into motion, Soo-won headed for the stairs, mindful of Mi-jung's guards that remained by her chambers. There had been six; now there were only three. Hak followed but the guards didn't. Perhaps he'd been convincing enough.
They'd descended two floors before he dared to speak. "Why is it you?"
"Ehhh. I was the sober one. …Mostly."
Soo-won could smell the wine that laced Hak's breath. His heart thudded in his throat. "Joo-doh Shogun?"
"Apparently drank himself under the table at the thought of you spending the night with the Shin queen."
"A—ah." Suddenly dizzy, he clutched the rail to steady himself. His mind whirled out of control, despite his attempts to stop it. It couldn't be true. Couldn't be…couldn't be. How could the Kai Emperor's son claim his father's death? I saw it all. I know what I saw.
I can't be wrong about that. I'm not. Soo-won stumbled on the next step, pitching forward—
—A firm hand caught him, closing around his upper arm and keeping him from falling. The Thunder Beast sighed. "Still can't hold your liquor, eh?"
He stared down at the stairs, his hair falling into his face, held up only by Hak's grasp. His limbs felt like ice, his breath coming in uneven spurts. I'm not wrong about that. My entire life is for— Is because—
"Soo-won?"
His vision blurred. Hak's earlier words spun through his mind—I regret letting you go through that alone. He swallowed hard, his tongue feeling thick in his throat. Why, Hak? Why does it have to be you? The one person who could shatter his resolve—
"Did something happen?" Hak's voice cooled. "Did she…"
Soo-won closed his eyes. Breathing got easier. The spinning in his head slowed at least. "Do my pride a favor and don't finish that sentence, Hak."
The Thunder Beast cleared his throat, stepping down even with him.
Soo-won met Hak's searching gaze with what he hoped was an icy expression. But Hak didn't seem to buy it. The grip on his arm changed—his former friend propelled him down the stairs and into a quiet, empty hall. Soo-won recognized the fourteenth floor…at least, he thought he did.
"Then why are you shaking?"
Was he? He hadn't noticed. Soo-won lifted a hand in front of his face and watched it visibly tremble. He curled his fingers into a fist—it didn't help. I saw it. King Il. The sword. The blood… Heat spread across his back as he thought of the flames. Another shudder tore through him, this one more violent and obvious.
His other arm was captured by Hak's grasp. "What happened?"
Soo-won hesitantly lifted his gaze to the face of his former friend. The Thunder Beast was frowning, his face flinty, but there was concern in Hak's eyes. It was like something shattered. As if suddenly the whole world had been turned upside-down and he'd woken after the fire to his best friend instead of the general charged with keeping an eye on him or the advisor who'd spoken those cold words to him over and over— For the kingdom. For the kingdom, Soo-won-sama…
The wine still made his head spin. If I could've told you, Hak… Soo-won grabbed his friend's arms to steady himself, his knuckles white.
Hak's expression didn't change. Tell me this time, those eyes demanded.
He shuddered again and looked away. His best friend. His only best friend— He closed his eyes and the words spilled from his lips. "She claims the Kai Emperor's son killed my father."
One sentence that hung in the air between them for the space of a breath—
—Soo-won's back hit the wall roughly, Hak's fingers digging into his shoulders. A dull ache throbbed from the back of his head but he didn't remember hitting it—
"…What did you just say?"
Soo-won blinked. Hak's eyes were wild, a tremor running visibly through the Thunder Beast's frame.
"It's a lie, Hak. We can't trust her. She—"
Hak released him abruptly. A fist slammed into the wall just to the side of his head. "This whole time—you've been lying to us? For what? Just to hurt Yona?"
He sucked in a breath, realizing his mistake. It cleared his head a little. "I wouldn't lie about that, Hak. I was there. I saw my uncle to it."
Hak's face iced over. "'I know what you thought you saw.' —That's what Lili said to her."
Soo-won went numb. "I'm… I'm not lying about what happened that night."
Hak thrust himself away from the wall, wrenching a hand through his hair, a shuddering breath emanating from his mouth. "If I stay here, I'll—" Abruptly, he turned his back and walked off.
It hurt to breathe. Soo-won stared after him—long after Hak had vanished from his view, pain spearing him through the chest, as if some part of him died right there—maybe for a second time. Hak. I—I'm not lying. I never should have told you. Liquid welled in his eyes. I was a fool to think we could ever not be enemies. Why didn't you just kill me? Why not just get it over with?
It was the fourteenth floor and his chambers were just down the hall. I need to leave here. He pushed himself from the wall, wincing at the throbbing ache in his head and trying to ignore the dizziness as he walked. I need to return to Hiryuu Castle. Back where everything made sense…
Soo-won made it to the door and pushed the panel aside, stepping through. "Joo-doh Shogun, we need to find Tae-woo Shogun and—"
—The metallic scent of blood caught him in the face, along with something cloying and sweet he couldn't identify. Soo-won stopped, cold. Lamp light flickered off three bodies on the floor. Joo-doh. Mua. Gyoku.
Sensing movement from the shadows on his left, Soo-won drew his sword, flinching to the side—
His father's blade flashed as it caught the light, but his reaction was too late; sluggish. Two silvered darts deflected off his sword and clattered to the floor, but something struck his side.
Soo-won looked down, seeing crimson blossom against his robes around the handle of a small knife. He felt the sticky warmth first and the pain second. Holding his breath, he yanked the blade free.
One of Mi-jung's generals emerged from the shadows of the room—Seong-ha, the man with the shaved head and black mantle over his uniform. "I didn't expect you back so soon, Your Majesty." Seong-ha's voice was calm and melodic. The man eyed him patiently, as if waiting for something—
Soo-won gasped as heat flashed through his veins. The room and the man blurred before him. His sword suddenly weighed a hundred pounds.
"Your dragon princess is quite well guarded," Seong-ha said, and sighed. "And now my timeline must be altered."
The sword dropped from his hand, thudding to the floor. Soo-won collapsed to his knees, gasping for breath that wouldn't come to him. Every part of his body was boiling. He clawed at his own throat, but it didn't help.
He heard the chamber door close.
"But no matter. My master will make do with you for now, Son of Yu-hon."
Soo-won's vision swam with spots, then went completely black. His limbs gave way. He slumped to the floor on his side, pain shooting through every nerve. Then, he suddenly felt nothing at all—